


Faith

by taeminuet



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Taemin, Rimming, alpha!key
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 01:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeminuet/pseuds/taeminuet
Summary: It burns Taemin up to know that every time this happens, Key is right there. Right there is someone he cares about and trusts to help take care of him, and Taemin can’t have him.In which Taemin needs some help with his heat.





	Faith

Taemin wakes up feeling warm. Not the usual kind of warmth where there are too many clothes; that’s easy enough to fix. No, this is a familiar warmth, low and flickering like a flame inside his belly, and Taemin groans quietly and rolls over. Almost immediately, he can feel the wetness, not quite dripping, but enough to make him feel sticky, disgusting.

He whines low in his throat. The temptation to get up and hobble to the bathroom is strong, but there are other temptations on top of that, and he knows if he leaves his room, it might not end well. He’s back at the dorm for a bit, and his room here smells mostly of himself and of Jonghyun, a comforting blend of familiar scents, Jonghyun’s warm, soft, beta smell more of a balm than anything.

But the moment he exits, he knows that’s not what the rest of the dorm will smell like. Sure, Jinki’s and Minho’s scents will permeate, just as soothing as Jonghyun’s, but under all of that (or maybe over, depending on how sensitive Taemin’s nose already is), Key’s scent will be everywhere, sharp and spicy and fuck, even imagining it has Taemin feeling stickier, wet enough to soak his underwear.

This shouldn’t have been a problem. Back when they debuted, years and years ago, SHINee had been intended to be a mostly beta group. Key had been an alpha, sure, but that hadn’t mattered in the face of what they were sure would be mostly betas. Only Taemin, younger than the rest, hadn’t started displaying any traits. They had been sure he would be a beta.

And then two years later, Taemin had gone into his first heat practically in the middle of dance practice. In a moment, the flush of exertion and excitement had suddenly been sharper, harder, something else. And Taemin was suddenly (or rather, had always been) the only omega in their five-member group.

Jinki had stepped in immediately, eyes wide as he took Taemin into his arms and wrapped him in his own jacket, getting Minho to undress and tying his sweaty shirt around Taemin’s waist to help mask the scent. But Key had had to be practically pulled from the room by Jonghyun, hauled out into the hallway and away from Taemin, staying the night at Jonghyun’s parents’ house with him for a few days until Taemin’s heat had faded and Taemin had been put on suppressants to keep future ones calmer, more at bay.

But at bay doesn’t mean completely gone, and it burns Taemin up to know that every time this happens, Key is right there. Right there is someone he cares about and trusts to help take care of him, and Taemin can’t have him. It’s a bad idea — they’ve gotten that warning so many times, about group dynamics and all the things that could happen. Even if they trust themselves, they’ll get in trouble. He knows that.

But still, it makes him whine helplessly, rolling over again onto his front. Even without having touched himself at all, he’s already half hard, turned on just from the heat. It’s horrible and irritating, but Taemin can’t seem to help himself. He groans and ruts against the mattress until he has to stop, grimacing at the next dribble of slick leaking out of him.

“Ugh,” he pants and grabs his phone off the nightstand. Luckily, it’s not lost for once, and he blindly pokes at the speed-dial for Jinki. At least Jinki’s always willing to help out where he can, bring him more fresh sheets, ice water and popsicles, cold foods to help quell the building heat.

But he doesn’t hear Jinki’s phone ringing from anywhere in the apartment, and when Jinki answers, there’s noise in the background, the kind of absent clatter of sound that tells him that Jinki’s out in public. He whines pathetically. “Hyung, where are you?”

“Oh, Taeminnie,” Jinki says, voice immediately dropping to fond and concerned. “Tell me it’s not—”

“Look, I can’t predict it,” Taemin whines again, probably pouting. He always feels a little whinier like this, but he also has a pretty damn good reason. “When are you gonna be home?”

“Taeminnie, I’m filming. I don’t know how long—” he stops, and there’s a muffled sound like him covering the mouthpiece to speak. It doesn’t last long enough for a full conversation, but after a moment, he uncovers it and asks, “Do you need me to come home?”

Taemin squirms. He shouldn’t take Jinki from whatever schedule he’s at. He’s honestly not that bad off, and Jinki’s busy. “No. It’s okay. I’ll live,” he admits. “I’m just gross, you know?”

Jinki hums. He doesn’t know, but he’s at least seen Taemin like this enough times to sympathize. After a moment, he sighs. “I can call and tell Jonghyun to come and take care of you?”

Taemin makes a noncommittal noise. “I don’t want to worry him,” he says, all honesty.

Jonghyun gets nervous over this sometimes, like he thinks Taemin’s more out of it than he really is. Probably because of that one time Taemin let him kiss him during his heat. It wasn’t a big deal — Taemin had kind of even liked it — but Jonghyun got all nervous about taking advantage. It’s actually kind of sweet in a way, but it’s hard for Jonghyun. Taemin doesn’t want to make it harder.

Which, god, okay. He really needs his brain to think in better terminology than ‘hard’ right now. It’s really not helping.

“No one’s home?” he asks, a little bit of a pout in his voice.

There’s almost too long of a pause and then Jinki, slowly and uncertainly, says, “Key’s home.” Taemin inadvertently whimpers, and Jinki inhales a sharp hissing breath. “Taemin, you—”

“I know. I know I can’t. For the good of group dynamics. I know. It’s just— fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” Jinki says. “I have to go now. But I can call Jonghyun for you.”

“Don’t,” Taemin says. “It’s fine. I can handle it.”

“Taemin—”

“Thanks, hyung.” Taemin hangs up, tossing the phone towards the nightstand. He misses, the phone clattering onto the floor, but the thought of moving enough to pick it up makes him protest. He ruts again the mattress again, frustrated with his own body, his own hormones, though this time he bites hard into his pillow to muffle the strained noises pouring from his lips.

It takes too long. For all that his heat is starting up, he’s not quite to that point where it’s easy to come yet, and Taemin is definitely not to the point of desperate to shove his fingers up his ass quite yet. That’s a level of desperate that he’ll definitely hit later, but he’s not there yet.

Still, without something inside him, Taemin’s orgasm is halfhearted at best, enough to hold back some of the tide, but mostly just frustrating and empty, staining his boxers and making him squirm. Now he’s even grosser.

“Ugh,” he groans, peeling himself off his bed. If he doesn’t, the sheets are going to be soaked through soon, and no. Absolutely no.

Maybe if…

He creeps to the door (or as close to creeping as he can get when he’s half-waddling, boxers stuck to his skin), pushing it open the tiniest bit. Almost immediately, the smell invades, and Taemin catches himself against the doorframe as he gets wetter, slick dribbling. He whines pathetically. “Ew.”

“Tae?” Key’s voice comes from down the hall, strained at best.

“I’m not… I’m not doing anything, hyung. I just wanna go to the bathroom. I just wanna clean up,” Taemin answers, but his voice is wobbly now. It would be easier, he’s pretty sure, if he didn’t already want Key. If he didn’t already know and like and trust Key. If Key was a stranger, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Instead, they’re at a standstill, across the dorm from each other, neither of them moving. Taemin remembers all the warnings. He just doesn’t know how to feel. He hates this.

“I can… leave,” Key calls back to him, and Taemin hears the soft shuffling noises of him moving around. But the shuffling means he appears in the hallway, and Taemin tugs back in uncertainly. “If you want.”

“You don’t have to,” Taemin says, and when Key’s eyes go a little wide, Taemin swallows. “I just meant, I don’t want to kick you out of the dorm. You live here more often than I do, even, so—”

“I should,” Key says, looking over him slowly. “You practically reek.”

Taemin frowns. “Rude,” he says instinctively, lower lip jutting out a little.

Key gives him a look. “You know what I mean,” he says. “You smell— god.”

“Not better, hyung,” Taemin retorts, but the way Key is looking at him as making the heat begin to pool under his skin again, too fast. Every inhale is full of Key’s scent, and Taemin can’t even take a deep breath to steady himself. He just clutches at the door.

“I can leave,” Key repeats himself without moving.

Taemin nods slowly, fingers white-knuckled on the wood of the door. “Yeah,” he says finally. “You… you, uh…”

Key takes a single step forward, and Taemin whimpers low in his throat. Key jars suddenly, eyes narrowing. “Shit,” he says, looking Taemin over. “I’ll call Jinki.”

“I already called him,” Taemin whispers. “He told me you were here.”

Key pauses. “And you came out of your room?”

Taemin doesn’t know how to the look in Key’s eyes, but it seems intense, makes him feel a little weak through the knees. It’s not a feeling he likes — being steady on his feet is kind of his thing. But some part of him feels the need to let them fold under him. Fuck.

“Just… I just wanted to go clean up,” he whispers. It doesn’t come out of him sounding like the truth.

Key is clearly keeping his breathing shallow, but his eyes are getting darker by the moment, and Taemin feels oddly… hunted? Key’s always had somehow predatory eyes, taking in everything around him, and Taemin knows that if he stepped an inch further out of his room, Key would zero in on the mess he’s made of his boxers. Not that he needs to. He can probably smell it.

The thought makes Taemin shudder, fingers tightening on the doorframe and ass clenching around a new gush of slick, and Key makes a noise somewhere between a snarl and a gasp.

“Fuck,” Taemin says and takes a step. He’s pretty sure he means for it to be backward, but instead his body moves forward into the hall. “Hyung…”

“Go back in your room,” Key says, voice low.

Taemin, flaring warm under the skin, shakes his head. “Why? This is so stupid. You could help me. We wouldn’t get in any trouble. Why is you fucking me gonna cause problems? It’s so dumb.”

Key growls. “Don’t talk like that, Taemin,” he says. “You know—”

“I know,” Taemin says. He does. All the reasons. Group dynamics. People finding out. He shivers. “Do you want to mark me, hyung?”

Key’s eyes go sharper. “Taemin,” he says, all warning, and Taemin tips his throat back, hoping. Trusting.

Key takes a step back, shaking his head.

“See?” Taemin says, and it comes out a little breathy, shot with nerves. “I trust you. You won’t mark me. And I know you’ll stop if I ask.”

“You won’t ask,” Key says, frowning.

Taemin frowns back. “You were there when I had this conversation with Jonghyun,” he protests. “I know what I want. I’m horny, not out of my mind.”

Key, even amidst the solemn tone of the conversation, breaks into a laugh. It seeps some seriousness out of it, makes Taemin feel like he can breathe a little easier. It doesn’t make him want Key any less.

“Jinki’s going to kill us,” Key says, once he’s done laughing. “Or kill me. He lets you get away with murder sometimes.”

Taemin shrugs. “I’ll take the blame then. I’m the one who’s asking.”

“Asking what?” Key says, and it’s not a question so much as a prompt. Like he wants Taemin to be sure. To say it.

And Taemin could call this off right here. Go back to his excuse. Go clean up. Ask Key to leave. All of that. He knows that if he did, Key would go.

“Asking you to fuck me, hyung,” Taemin breathes. “I want it you so bad. You have no idea.”

Key’s eyes seem to flash, and he steps forward. Taemin is the dancer of the group, but Key’s not anything to shrug off, and his movements are as graceful as they are predatory. Taemin’s almost dazed by the time Key has him boxed in. Key isn’t taller than him by much, but he feels somehow larger than Taemin right now, his hands catching Taemin’s in a grip that’s just shy of too strong.

Taemin has always known he has small hands and Key has big ones, has felt it every time they hold hands on stage for bows and overplayed skinship moments (rare between the two of them – no one in management is quite dumb enough to put the only alpha and the only omega in the group side by side and tell them to play up a fake relationship). But knowing is somehow different than the feeling of Key catching his hands and pushing them back, hard, the back of Taemin’s knuckles scraping against the drywall behind him.

Taemin stares at him, eyes wide, and Key stares back. Neither of them moves. They’re too close, and Taemin can feel Key’s scent like it’s tangible, filling his nose and his lungs. Taemin is faintly, horrifyingly aware of his own wetness, hole clenching around nothing as he soaks his boxers, and Key takes too deep a breath.

Taemin bites his lip. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?” he asks. He means to sound brave, but mostly he just sounds like one of those omegas from the worst types of porn, breathless and needy and  _fuck_.

“It’s a bad idea,” Key repeats himself, and then he’s kissing Taemin hard enough to stifle his protest, hard enough that Taemin can feel the edge of teeth behind it. It’s not kind exactly. It’s rough and sharp and a little too much, and when Key pulls away, Taemin has the sudden realization that his mouth will be bruised later, lips puffy and swollen. One glance and people will know.

But Taemin’s also aware that he’s leaking pheromones, that it’s easy enough to tell from that alone, and that Key’s are so overwhelming that the first gasping inhale Taemin takes after the kiss makes him burn up again, heat crawling under his skin. “ _Nn_ ,” he says, a nonsensical, helpless little noise. “Fuck.”

“Good,” Key says, not even an ounce of doubt in his tone. Self-assured, even through this.

Taemin, for all that he wants Key right now, laughs. It’s the kind of laugh he could hide if his hands were free, but they’re not, so instead it’s just out in the open, between them.

But he trusts Key for a reason, because Key only lets out a huff of his own and steps further into Taemin’s space, crowding him until the space between them is practically nonexistent. An inch more and Key’s thigh would be between his, and the thought has Taemin shivering, hips twitching forward.

Key notices almost effortlessly. “You want this? Really want this?”

“Yes,” Taemin makes an exasperated noise. “Fuck, just fuck me already. I’ve been turned on since I woke up.”

Key raises an eyebrow. “I know,” he says after a moment. “I could hear you… what, jerking off?”

Taemin doesn’t know what to say, gapes for a moment at the sudden flush of embarrassment that heats his cheeks, and he really, really doesn’t need help with that right now. He feels too warm now, squirming under Key’s gaze. “Fucking the mattress,” he admits, voice cracking. “Needed something.”

“Yeah?” Key asks, though it’s almost more agreement than a question. “Was it enough?”

Taemin shakes his head, a strange minute motion where his eyes don’t dare leave Key’s. He feels trapped but in the best way. In the way that he’s sure if he said, Key would move away, but so long as he doesn’t, Key is going to hold him here. And Taemin likes it here, but he also wants more.

“No. It wasn’t enough. I needed something inside.”

Key makes a noise that Taemin is positive is involuntary, low and sharp, and then he’s pulling back from Taemin, letting go of his hands to catch him by the hips instead, fingers digging into Taemin’s skin through his boxers. He tugs, dragging Taemin’s hips that little bit closer, and Taemin gasps. Key’s cock is hard against his own, and how the hell had he missed that? Taemin’s been back at half hard for… god, since he stepped out into the hallway, into Key’s scent. But he wasn’t expecting Key to be, somehow, and the feeling of it pressed hard against his own, drags a noise out of him that he will never admit to, a high, keening sound. “Fuck,” he breathes, and then, “alpha.”

Key kisses him again, hard, and Taemin groans into his mouth, letting Key move him, shuffling backward until Taemin is surrounded by familiar scents again, but with Key’s mixed in now. Key breaks away, looking a little stunned. “Jesus, Taemin. This whole room–”

“Not the whole room,” Taemin says, pouting.

“Your bed, then,” Key corrects, breathing deep through his nose, and then pushes Taemin down into the sheets.

He hovers over him for a moment, some strange last-ditch pause to see if either of them will back out of this, but Taemin only sits forward, taking a slow, shuddering breath. “Look, not that I don’t want to suck you off right now, but I need–”

“I know what you need, Tae,” Key says, and settles on top of him, between his legs. Taemin shudders and spreads his legs wider, an invitation that Key takes. He reaches forward, cupping Taemin’s cock, the pad of his thumb catching on cotton and rubbing the fabric up against Taemin’s sensitive skin. Taemin’s cock twitches in Key’s hand, his hole clenching desperately around nothing.

“You’re teasing,” he accuses. “Don’t tease me. You know how bad—”

“Thought you trusted me,” Key says, almost taunting. “Don’t you want me to take care of you?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Taemin whines. His voice is hardly convincing, and the way his cock just dribbled precome is even less so. “Just want you to fuck me.”

“I’m going to,” Key says. “Let me have some fun first. I’ve been dying to touch you for years. Every time you get like this.”

“Ah,” Taemin says, and he doesn’t know what the noise is supposed to mean, but it feels torn out of him. His hips jerk towards Key’s hand, and this time he means to say it, means to call Key “alpha.” It makes Key growl, something basic and feral that has Taemin gasping out a curse. “Fuck,” he says, tipping his head back against the mattress. “Fuck, alpha, touch me then.”

Key does. His fingers curl under the elastic of Taemin’s boxers, tugging them down Taemin’s legs roughly, and letting Taemin’s help kick them off, his cheeks going a little red at how they stick to his damp skin with slick and come, stained from his earlier orgasm. But Key doesn’t seem to mind, only gives a low noise of appreciation and wraps his fingers around Taemin’s thighs, his large hands pushing them apart, up, making space.

“You don’t—” Taemin starts again, half a protest.

Key looks at him, something akin to fond annoyance on his face. “If you don’t want me to do something, tell me. Otherwise, I know I don’t have to do this. Neither of us do. But...”

It’s an open-ended sentence, but Taemin is quick to finish it. “But I want you, hyung.”

“What happened to 'alpha,' huh?” Key asks.

Taemin doesn’t manage a retort. Instead, he chokes on a loud moan as Key ducks his head and swipes his tongue over Taemin’s hole, still wet and sensitive. It’s not substantial, not something inside of him like he needs, but Key licks up his slick, holding Taemin open for himself as he drags the flat of his tongue almost tauntingly over the surface, and Taemin trembles, feeling just the right side of helpless as he grinds down against Key’s face with a whine on his lips. “Fuck, okay, yes. Alpha. I’ll call you— god, just, something in me. You’re still teasing.”

Key’s fingers tighten on Taemin’s skin, not roughly, but just enough for Taemin to feel it, and then Key pushes his tongue inside. It’s the first thing Taemin’s had in him all day, and he nearly screams, biting his bottom lip and bringing his hand up to cover his mouth, the other reaching down to bury itself in Key’s hair. It’s rough, a little brittle from dye, but Taemin’s hand winds through it easily, and Key lets him tug, a fruitless needy motion that doesn’t do anything except make Key’s tongue push deeper, eating him out slowly and deeply and way, way too well.

Taemin feels himself clenching around Key’s tongue, a flood of embarrassment welling up in him as another gush of slick starts to dribble out, but Key lets out a low moan that makes Taemin’s entire body react with a low pulse of pleasure, heat starting to build up now into something tangible, something that almost hurts. He lets out a soft sound that he doesn’t realize until Key pulls back is a sob.

“Baby?” Key asks, and it sounds like it just slips out, his concern evident on his face now.

Taemin shakes his head, reaches his other hand for Key as well. “’M good. So good. Just need something inside. Need your cock. Need… just need.”

Key groans, low in his throat, and lets go of Taemin’s legs, moving up Taemin’s body to kiss him again. His mouth tastes strange and the knowledge of why makes Taemin groan and lift his hips imploringly, his cock rubbing against one of Key’s hips.

“You gonna come for me if I fuck you?” Key asks, and Taemin breaks the kiss to nod rapidly.

“Yeah. Yeah, yes,” Taemin says, a nonsense string of agreements, and Key grins and reaches down between them. He doesn’t even go slow, just presses two then three fingers inside Taemin within seconds, stretching him open so much wider than his tongue. Taemin all but writhes, squirming under Key and pushing his hips into Key’s hands, Key’s fingers, letting Key split him open.

“Careful,” Key warns, and then crooks his fingers hard enough that it makes the warning ridiculous, makes Taemin incapable of being careful when he could have Key’s fingers pressing into his prostate like that again.

“Fuck me,” Taemin hears himself saying, and has no idea how long he’s been saying it. “Fuck me. Alpha, fuck me. Want you. Want it.”

“Want what?” Key says, kissing the words off his lips and making Taemin groan in frustration, bucking his hips up again. “Say it.”

“Key, god, don’t make this weird,” Taemin says, color in his cheeks and hands lifting from Key to try and hide his face, embarrassment clear in every motion except the desperation with which he’s trying to fuck himself down onto Key’s hand.

“I want to be sure I know what you’re asking for,” Key says, and it’s hovering on the border, too sincere for Taemin to refuse but too teasing for Taemin not to feel the embarrassment of the admission.

At least Key’s letting him hide his face, pretending not to see the redness of his cheeks as he whines, “I want your knot. Want you to knot me.”

“Good,” Key says, and crooks his fingers again, harder, enough to make Taemin let out a startled cry, rutting his cock up against Key’s hip again.

Key laughs, a genuinely amused sound, shoulders shaking a little as if he’s trying to restrain himself from laughing with his whole body like he normally does, and Taemin frowns at him before wrapping his arms around Key’s shoulders, digging his nails into the back of them like a warning. “Hyung, fuck.”

“Impatient,” Key teases, but he pulls his fingers free, leaving Taemin feeling empty, open, until he hears the sound of Key unbuttoning his pants. It’s a little embarrassing, in retrospect, to be so open under a fully-clothed Key, but it doesn’t matter, not when Taemin hears the shift of fabric, feels Key shifting to press the head of his cock to Taemin’s hole.

Taemin all but whimpers. “Hurry up and fuck me,” he says again, digging his fingernails in harder, only the shortness of them keeping him from accidentally hurting Key.

Key leans closer, boxed in over him now, not big enough to be imposing, but enough to at least trap Taemin here, legs spread and cock trapped between them. He presses a kiss to Taemin’s jawline, near his ear, nipping at the skin almost admonishingly as he teases, “That’s not a nice way to ask.”

“You’re making me regret asking,” Taemin whines, squirming, but they both know that he’s so fully invested in this now. After a too-long second, Taemin shudders. “Fuck me, alpha. Please.”

“Better,” Key hums, and then pushes in. It’s slow, achingly so, inch by inch, but Taemin can feel it splitting him open and he’s pretty sure he’s never wanted anything more. It makes him moan, a low steady string of noises dripping from his lips as Key fills him, all the way down to the slight swell at the base of his cock, the very beginnings of a knot that will only get bigger.

Taemin scrabbles at Key’s skin. “Fuck, fuck,” he says, feeling a little stupid with it, and maybe this is what people mean when they accuse omegas of being too needy to think straight during their heats, but he doesn’t care. He’s already made the decision on Key, and he knows that it’s going to be fine, that Key’s going to take care of him, because Key’s already filling him up so well, every inch of Taemin buzzing with fire under the skin as he clenches helplessly around Key’s cock and whines, “Alpha. Knot me. Please.”

“Be patient,” Key snarls, voice tight with effort.

Taemin whimpers at the command. “Can’t be. Need it. Fuck, Key, alpha.”

It’s the first time that he’s paired the name and the title, and Key moans, low in his throat, hips twitching and fucking himself just that little bit further into Taemin. The knot has barely even swelled and Taemin can already feel it tugging at his entrance, making it hard to think. “I’m ready,” Taemin begs. “Just fuck me, please.”

Key shifts, settling himself just that little bit better, and does. He goes harder, faster than Taemin expects at first, and Taemin wails, the sound almost forced out of him by the weight of it, how deep inside of him Key gets on that first stroke and then the second, the third, over and over against until Taemin loses count of it, even subconsciously, couldn’t keep up if he wanted to.

He cock grinds between them, smearing precome on Taemin’s belly and Key’s shirt, making almost as much of a mess as Taemin’s slick is making of the sheets and the mattress. Taemin submits to the feeling almost desperately, making little, broken sounds with every thrust, letting the feeling overwhelm him, letting it drown him. He can hear his voice breaking, low, ragged sounds that might be moans and might be sobs but are mostly just him begging without words for more.

And then suddenly it’s a struggle for Key to push all the way in, every thrust meeting almost with resistance as his knots swells. He's still fucking into Taemin and stretching him, a slow blinding ache, just the right side of too much, that makes his eyes well up at the corners and his mouth hang open as he pants desperately. “Alpha,” he pants, more a moan than a real word. “Alpha, please.”

“Please what?” Key asks, and Taemin is relieved to hear it shaking almost as much, relieved to find Key as affected as he is. He moans, a nonanswer that makes Key groan. “Please what, Tae?”

Taemin lets out a helpless sound. “Please, fuck, I wanna come.”

“Yeah?” Key says. “You gonna thank me for it?”

Taemin wants to balk, but he whines instead, a high, heady noise. “Key,” he says, almost a plea, twisting his hips desperately for friction. “Fuck, okay, yes. I will, just—”

“Good boy,” Key says, slipping a hand between them to wrap around Taemin’s cock, squeezing just shy of too tight and stroking him as hard as his thrusts, fucking Taemin up into the downstroke of his hand. “Come for your alpha.”

The words make something flash through him, and Taemin wails loudly and does as he’s told, as much because of the order as the need. It’s dizzying and almost overwhelming, and Taemin doesn’t care because it feels so good that he can barely breathe.

He spills over Key’s hand, over his belly and Key’s shirt, probably staining it, but Taemin doesn’t care. He’s clinging to Key now, sobbing with oversensitivity as Key’s knot pushes into him hard, dragging at his rim with every stroke and making Taemin feel almost used in the best way possible, Key fucking him open further and further until Taemin can feel it like a scream in his chest. He comes again a minute or so later, dry now, tightening helplessly around Key’s cock, around his knot, feeling Key shudder above him.

“Fuck,” Key groans, and Taemin can feel the useless pull when Key attempts to pull away again, can feel Key spreading him open, plugging him up as they tie together. He whines, high and loud, but not quite loud enough to cover up Key’s moaning as he spills inside of him. Taemin is embarrassingly in love with the feeling, warm and wet and going to drip out of him later when Taemin doesn’t have a giant knot plugging him up. The thought makes him moan pathetically.

“Hyung, fuck,” he whispers, buckling a little, arms falling from Key’s back to curl loosely around his upper arms. “I–”

“What did I say, huh?” Key says, stroking Taemin’s cock again, probably just to hear Taemin whimper.

Taemin’s reels for a moment, not entirely processing, and then flushes. “Thank you,” he says, face red.

“Good boy,” Key teases, and pulls his hand out from between them, looking around for a moment before grimacing and wiping his hand on Taemin’s sheets.

Taemin gives him a truly affronted look and then thinks about it and shrugs. Not like they’re salvageable anyways. And he figures Key knows that. “I’m gonna need to, again,” he says, after a moment. “Later.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll be here a while,” Key says, glancing downward at where they’re joined, and then bursts into laughter at Taemin’s face, jostling Taemin just enough that he whines.

“So, bad idea?” he asks quietly, after a minute. It’s not quite uncertain, but still. He’s not entirely sure where this puts them. In a lot of trouble, probably. But he’s willing to deal with that later if Key is.

“No,” Key says, as blunt as honest. “Probably the best idea you’ve had in a while, honestly.”

Taemin scoffs, but he can’t help but silently agree. Especially when Key dips down to kiss him, careful not to jostle them again too much. “It’s gonna be fine, Tae.”

“Yeah, I know,” Taemin says. “I still trust you.”

He doesn’t let Key answer before leaning up to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from [tumblr](http://taeminuet.tumblr.com).


End file.
